


That Kinda Soul

by crunch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas and children, Cas and lambs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 02:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1588454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crunch/pseuds/crunch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is pretty lost after being kicked out of the bunker. He meets a family in Mississippi with a sick lamb and a little girl that desperately wants to save it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Kinda Soul

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly about Cas wandering around and interacting with children and lambs. Any Destiel mention is pretty subtle.

After Cas left the bunker, he wandered.

Initially, he was hurt. At a loss for what to do and where to go. 

He didn’t question Dean, didn’t resent him for pretty much kicking him out; something on Dean’s face told him that he was bearing enough guilt already without shouldering Cas’s pain too. Sometimes he picks up his cell phone ready to punch out Dean's phone number but thinks better of it. He figures Dean will call when he thinks Cas will be useful again and not a moment before. He isn’t too worried about seeing Dean again, anyway. Time has shown they have a knack for finding their way back to each other. 

As far as wandering goes, Lebanon was as good a place to start as any since it was literally in the center of the country. Cas decided to head to the southeast, an area he had never experienced with Sam and Dean and an area rural enough that, hopefully, his brothers and sisters will be hard pressed to find him. He took bus after bus, occasionally stopping in cities and towns for a while, working odd jobs to earn enough to keep on moving. He picked up trash in Lebanon; corralled shopping carts in a Topeka Wal-Mart; mowed lawns in Lawrence (a much more emotionally taxing visit than he expected). Slowly, he made his way through Missouri. Soon the public transportation routes thinned out and he took to hitchhiking instead, catching rides with farmers and truckers and anyone in between.

By the time Cas reached Crenshaw, Mississippi, he had started taking a keen interest in farms. Outside of Crenshaw, acres and acres of farmland covered the landscape, stretching towards the horizon like a patchwork quilt of land. Of the farms he had seen, some were huge like the ones outside Crenshaw; some were small, just meant to provide for a family and maybe sell any surplus for some extra income. Any land that wasn’t farmland was spattered with trees and wildflower patches, their scent filling the warm, humid air during the night. Scuppernong vines and honeysuckle wound around fence posts and tree trunks.

Once, while walking down a dirt road shaded by the arms of magnolia trees, Cas watched as a group of children pulled off the honeysuckle flowers from a low-hanging vine. The kids pulled apart the flowers and seemed to enjoy whatever they could taste inside. Curious, Cas plucked a honeysuckle flower from the vines hanging down off the tree limbs. He tried to imitate what the children did, pulling some part of the flower out to get the little drop of nectar. Obviously he must be missing something, he thought, because all Cas could do was rip the stem out and accidentally crush the petals. He heard a giggle behind him and turned to see a little girl, maybe nine or ten years old, staring up at him with a grin on her face.

“You can’t just pull off the pedals, mister,” she drawled. “You gotta pull out the string part, else you can’t get the honey.” She plucked off her own flower to demonstrate, pinching the bottom and pulling it out before licking off the nectar at the end.

“I see, so it’s the style that needs to be removed,” Cas said thoughtfully. The girl’s features twisted a little when she said “I ‘unno about no ‘style’, it’s the string part. My big brother says the flowers need the string part or else the vines’ll lose track of all of ‘em.” As she explained, Cas pulled out the style and tasted the drop of sweetness at the end. The girl smiled. “See? That’s how you gotta do it.”

Cas smiled back at her. “I see, thank you for that.” He paused for a moment, still a little unsure of how to proceed when talking to children. “What’s your name?”

She ducked her head and let her chestnut hair cover her face, suddenly shy. “Mary Lee,” she answered, “Mary Lee Hewett. What’s yours?”

“Cast- um, Cas. Cas Winchester.”

“Those’re funny names, the both of ‘em,” Mary Lee giggled. Cas shrugged and laughed with her. It is a little funny. 

Suddenly, her eyes lit up. “You ever seen little baby lambs?” she almost shouted. Cas shook his head. “C’mon, lemme show you,” Mary Lee said, grabbing Cas’s wrist. “I think you’d like ‘em, you seem like that kinda soul. Little lambs of God, that’s what my Daddy calls ‘em.”

Following behind the girl (because when a child is so excited to show you something, you aren't allowed to turn it down), Cas asked her, “What do you mean by ‘that kinda soul’?”

Mary Lee hummed for a second before answering, “Well, I don’t quite know. You was standing out here by yourself, an’ I saw you, an’ you seemed kinda lost. You couldn’t even eat the honeysuckle right.” She giggled again at that. “You seem good, though. Sorta like there’s some light of God in you.”

Something in Cas’s chest sank. He cleared his throat. “I’m not so sure about the light of God. I think… Um,” He cleared his throat again, his chest suddenly tight and a lump forming in his throat. Mary Lee stopped at the sound and turned towards him. “I think if there was any light of God in me, it’s gone.”

Mary Lee squinted up at him, her expression suddenly becoming very serious. “You can’t just take the light of God out of something, Mr. Cas. God’s everywhere. If you got God in you, it’s always there, no matter what comes. Daddy reads the Bible to me every day and Jesus says He’s with you always, and so He is, and there ain’t no one that can take that away.” At that, she turned on her heel and began marching back towards her farmhouse with Cas in tow.

***

As they approached the tiny dilapidated farmhouse – this was one of the smaller farms just used for the family, he could tell now - Mary Lee released her grip on Cas’s wrist and sprinted, yelling “Daddy!” as she jumped into the arms of a man in worn overalls and a dirty baseball cap. The man reminded him of Bobby Singer: rough on the outside but, judging by the way he smiled and cradled his daughter, all fatherly warmth and affection beneath.

Cas stood and watched as the man put Mary Lee down, finally looking up and noticing Cas. “And who is this?” he asked, looking at Mary Lee expectantly.

“That’s Mr. Cas,” she said. “He didn’t know how to eat the honeysuckle, so I showed ‘im, and I wanted to show 'im the lambs now.” She was practically bouncing with excitement.

Her father stuck out his hand, calloused and rough, and Cas shook it. “Mark Hewett,” he said matter-of-factly and with a polite smile. Mark turned to Mary Lee then, taking a deep breath.

“Sweetheart, them lambs… Well, one of them ain’t coping too well. He just ain’t thriving. He’s got this cold he can’t shake.” Seeing the worry begin to cross her face, he squatted down to Mary Lee’s level and gently gripped her shoulders. “Now don’t you get upset, Mary Lee. We’re not gonna give up on that little guy, I promise you. But sometimes- Sometimes this is the course nature takes. That’s just the way it is.”

Despite her father’s efforts, Mary Lee’s eyes continued to tear up. She ran behind the barn to see the lambs anyway, gesturing for Cas to follow.

Inside the pen, two lambs frolicked together, hopping and bouncing after they finished suckling from their mother. The mother grazed lazily, and a few feet from her Cas could see the sick lamb – a listless, tiny lump of wool, much smaller than the other two. Mary Lee opened the pen and rushed to the lamb, squatting down beside its body. She ran her fingers through his wool, willing him to lift his head. As Cas came closer, Mary Lee looked up at him with a tear-streaked face, as if she were pleading to him: “Please, fix it.” 

Cas’s chest tightened painfully. He couldn’t discern what emotion he was feeling exactly – regret, sorrow, humiliation – these kinds of emotions are still hard for him. They all feel the same – they hurt.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his throat closing. “I could have helped once, maybe, but now… I’m so sorry.” He sat down beside her. The lamb coughed violently, and Cas had never felt more useless. 

He wasn’t useful to Dean or Sam. He destroyed Heaven. His brothers and sisters are out for his blood. And now he can’t even save a single, tiny creature.

***

The next day, Cas returned to the farmhouse at Mary Lee’s request. The lamb’s condition continuing to decline, Mark had decided to bring it in to the vet to finally find out what exactly is causing so many problems. After a thorough checkup, the vet determined the lamb had contracted bacterial meningitis. He doesn’t know how it could have been transferred. He can prescribe antibiotics but they are expensive and the prognosis is poor. He’s very sorry.

“And what if we can’t afford to treat?” Mark asks, his head hung low and avoiding eye contact. Mary Lee stares at her shoes.

“In that case, euthanasia would be the most humane,” the vet replied. Mary Lee lets out a miserable sob but doesn’t look up. “It’s practically impossible that he could break through this on his own, and his condition will only continue to decline.”

“I’ll pay for it,” Cas blurts out before even realizing what he was about to say. “I can pay for it.” Mary Lee and Mark stare at him, looking about as surprised as Cas feels. He knows he doesn’t have the money. Cas glances over at the pair and asks to speak to the vet alone for a moment.

“So, I… I may not have the money right now,” He begins. The vet raises an eyebrow and though he doesn't actually roll his eyes, it's clear that he's heard enough.

“But I can work for it!" Cas said quickly, before the vet could totally reject him. "I can file papers or fill out records, I can… I’ve done a lot of boring tasks so that’s not a problem, trust me. Anything. I can do anything you need around here. I can get references if you want. Just, please, he needs to have a chance, at least. Bathrooms! I can clean -”

The vet raised his hand to cut Cas off. He sighed, “Normally I’d tell you to just give it up. This is really an unusual arrangement. But…” The vet’s eyes searched Cas’s face and he sighed again. “Fine. My assistant left town out of nowhere. Something about a meteor shower or whatever. Anyway, I haven’t had the time to hire a new one and I’ve got records piling up from months ago. You show up here at 7am every morning and get to work, no excuses. Got it?” Cas nodded and thanked him profusely. Mark initially tried to deny the help (he's like Dean as well as Bobby, Cas sees now) but between Mary Lee’s sad eyes and Cas’s insistence, he soon relented.

***

Over the next few weeks, Cas worked through the records diligently. It wasn’t difficult work once he understood the mechanics – using something called a “fax machine” and a “copier” were challenging at first but he soon became proficient. He only jammed the copier seven times his first day.

Meanwhile, the lamb (which Mary Lee had begun to call Trooper) seemed to be fighting the illness with all he had. Trooper’s cough faded and he began to lift his head again, slowly becoming less and less listless. He still didn’t frolic with his siblings and was extremely underweight, but he seemed to be getting better every day. Mark joked that the lamb would survive purely on Mary Lee's stubbornness. But Cas often found him watching Mary Lee in the pen as she urged Trooper to stand on his wobbly knees, smiling and shaking his head.

As a condition of Mark’s acceptance of Cas’s help, Cas agreed to stay in the guest room while he was working in the vet’s office. Cas knew he'd have to leave right after the medicine was paid off. It's too dangerous to stay in one place for long. He'd rather put himself back on Heaven's radar than do anything to put Mark and Mary Lee at risk. 

After his last day of work with the sun low in the sky, Cas packed up his few possessions and said his goodbyes.

Mary Lee hugged him tightly, close to tears as she said goodbye. “You saved him,” she said. “He woulda died without you. I knew you was good. God’s in you, see? God’s in you.” Cas smiled down at her and turned away before she could see his tears.

Mark’s goodbye was less warm. He drove Cas to the end of the dirt road in his beat-up work truck and clapped Cas on his shoulder as he climbed out of the truck. “Thanks again,” he said, not making eye contact. “You really made that kid happy. Can’t thank you enough.” Cas waved as the truck pulled away, a cloud of dust following it. For the first time since the angels fell, Cas felt whole. 

Walking down the highway, Cas pulled out his phone and dialed a very familiar number. And when Dean answers and says “Man, it’s good to hear from you. I’ve missed you, buddy,” Cas doesn’t wonder if Dean is pitying him. He doesn’t wonder if Dean is waiting for Cas to lose his number now that he can’t heal Sam. Instead, Cas tells him about the lambs and fax machines and honeysuckle. And Dean is happy to listen.


End file.
